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It was the first 8 am class at the start of the new semester, and Doyoung couldn’t hide his expression of utter distaste when he walked through the door.
To start of; he had gotten the mail of doom last night at exactly 11:29 pm. He had enrolled into the five o’clock ‘Self-reflecting: your heart, soul and mind’ class, which. according to many was just a class for napping and writing diary entries. Spot on for your average stressed university student who wanted someone to drop the heaviest book in the library on his or her head, which was exactly how Doyoung found out about the class.
Doyoung had walked to his regular table in the library when he saw Youngho, an architecture major and (sadly) one of Doyoung’s friends, putting a chair on top of it. He seemed to be arguing with Taeyong, which was just Youngho unsuccessfully doing the puppy pout and Taeyong rolling his eyes at the other while shaking his head. Upon Doyoung’s arrival, the beanstalk lit up and made Doyoung stand on the chair with the promise of buying him dinner for a week.
Up until that point, Doyoung thought it was just another one of Youngho’s crazy balance experiments for, you know, “architectural purposes”. Turns out five finals in a row made Youngho so stressed he lost hair (and his mind), and he gave Doyoung what he later found out was the largest book the university provided and begged him to drop it onto his head.
Taeyong had to step in because Doyoung was actually considering it, and everyone knew about Taeyong’s kind of sort of crush on Youngho, so he obviously didn’t want the moron dead; it was just common knowledge. It was also common knowledge Taeyong once ran in a towel fresh out of the shower to a party to check on Youngho, because the useless lobster had left a voice message to Taeyong in which he was crying. Turns out he was crying about losing his sock, but it was a prime example of how Taeyong would skinny dip in the North Sea during winter for the other.
Taeyong told the murderer-in-making and soon-to-be-murderee about the class he took during his second year, and they both decided to enroll into it together.
Which is why, when he got the forsaken mail about how he was moved from his original class to the 8 am version due to it being packed, Doyoung wept. He wept because it meant he wouldn’t be in the same class as Youngho, making time pass with lame jokes. He wept because it meant he had to get up at the Devil’s Hour the following day, which was only a few hours away. He wept because he was about to marathon Voltron after Yoonoh had recommended it to him, and he really needed to just fuck up his sleeping schedule the first week of school but now he couldn’t.
It was just his luck that he woke up half an hour after his alarm rang, making him miss his shower, his breakfast a lukewarm coffee and a stale cookie. It was just his luck that the class was packed and he was the last one in, thank god the professor wasn’t there yet. It was just his luck that the last empty seat was next to none other than Nakamotherfucking Yuta.
The male had his head on the desk with his hood up, looking like a corpse (which Doyoung wished he was), probably sleeping (which Doyoung wished he was doing himself). Steeling himself, Doyoung made his way over and kicked the other’s chair for good measure before plopping down in the empty one.
“I can smell that there’s an asshole next to me, ran late because you were taking your morning dump?” Was the muffled sentence he got from Yuta, which unfortunately meant he was alive.
“That was actually pretty good, damn.” Doyoung raised an appreciative eyebrow, he really loved colorful insults. He set his face to a scowl again; Yuta couldn’t receive too many compliments, it would only feed the demon valuable nutrients. “Why can’t you suck at Korean?”
“Why can’t you suck dick?” Yuta raised his head up, and now Doyoung could see that he had dyed his hair over the break. It was a soft yet dark lavender, and Yuta kind of looked like a grape. Not that Doyoung minded, he loved grapes. His hand unconsciously moved to his own colorful hair, and wondered if Yuta loved peaches. He shook the thought away before it could manifest and take over his brain, which he very much needed to control his vessel of flesh.
“I don’t suck dicks, I give blowjobs to blow minds.” That gained him a snort, and also a grin, and- why does it feel like Christmas? Like he just got a puppy he would love for his entire life? Doyoung didn’t like that feeling, not when Yuta’s smile was the source.
“The only mind-blowing thing you do is that one card trick, which Yoonoh also knows how to do. And Youngho.” The professor decided to walk in before Doyoung could make his counter attack, silencing all chattering. “Pay attention for me Dodo, ‘m gonna sleep.”
“Stop calling me that you moldy nacho, I won’t wake you up when class ends.” Yuta just shrugged, making himself comfortable before quickly dozing off. Doyoung noted down the most important points from the lecture, definitely for himself, not for Naked Mole Toe Judas.
(If it was common knowledge that Lee Taeyong would skinny dip in the North Sea for Seo Youngho, he hoped it never became known that he, Kim Dongyoung also known as Doyoung, would scuba dive in an erupting volcano for Nakamoto Yuta.)
-
Doyoung believed Yuta was out to get him, plotting a major plan that would end in Doyoung’s demise.
They got off on the wrong foot from the start, quite literally, since Doyoung stuck out his foot to squish a bug and Yuta tripped over said foot. It wasn’t abnormal for Doyoung to end up in verbal fights with his co-students, but he never saw them again so he didn’t worry too much about his petty self having to kiss someone’s ass for not having a brain to mouth filter.
That was until Taeyong the Traitor introduced Yuta as his new friend, and the other was welcomed into their odd circle of friend’s weekly fast food runs. Everyone noticed the tense atmosphere around the two, but they acted civilized with each other for Taeyong’s sake. No one wanted to hurt Taeyong in any way; everyone loved him and believed he deserved the world, so their only choice was to try to be friendly.
But then, Doyoung said he didn’t like One Ok Rock while discussing Japanese bands with Hansol, which was apparently a personal attack on Yuta’s being. Their contained dislike for each other blew up, very much like a whole pack of mentos in a bottle of coke, and poor Taeyong was left to clean up the mess and make (force) the two stay in the same place for more than five measly seconds.
After that, they just couldn’t stop. They constantly egged each other on, and depending on how you looked at it, it was either a good or a bad thing they both were equally petty and witty as hell. He thought his relationship with the Thai exchange student last year had been bad (he made Youngho teach him English so he could roast the guy), but fate figured his patience hadn’t been tested enough.
Besides crude names, horrific insults, and some semi-violent bodily contact, there was one thing Yuta did which was more gruesome than anything else.
Doyoung strived to keep good grades, so he took off time every day to study. Sometimes, he took off a lot of time, if the work load was big enough. When he did, he would announce in the group chat that he’d be MIA for the rest of the evening. Those were the times Yuta would message him, asking him just one simple question.
Wanna watch a movie?
Doyoung never hesitated; he would always reply straight away, pull on his sweatpants and a hoodie, and pad over to Yuta’s room at the end of the hall. They would sit on Yuta’s bed, side by side, thighs touching and sharing headphones if Yuta’s roommate was there. The Japanese would sometimes wrap his arms around one of Doyoung’s if it was a horror movie, or rest his head on his shoulder if he was close to falling asleep.
Those were the times Doyoung wanted to put his head atop of Yuta’s maybe, or hold his hand and play with his fingers. Doyoung wanted to pull Yuta into his embrace during the scary parts, and have him sit between his legs when Yuta complained about the headboard digging into his back. When the leads were kissing in the various rom-coms or dramas they watched, he wanted to let his lips land on the top of Yuta’s head, his cheeks, his nose, and sometimes (most of the times) his lips.
They were supposed to always fight, be like two Scorpios, but Doyoung was an Aquarius and Yuta was the only Scorpio of the two. They were supposed to not fit well together, but if they cuddled Doyoung knew he could tuck Yuta’s head under his chin and protect the older from the world even if he didn’t need it. It would be natural, natural to make Yuta smile instead of frown, laugh instead of screaming insults. He felt warm inside.
Doyoung hated it.
Doyoung hated Nakamoto Yuta.
-
(Even though he stayed up until 4 am to finish his assignments, Doyoung concluded it was worth it when his mind was filled with Yuta’s laugh and sleepy smile. That’s when he realized exactly what the warmth in his chest was, and he accidentally deleted his six page essay and woke up his roommate in his sleep-deprived state of chaos.)
-
“I need help.” Doyoung groaned pitifully while he slumped down onto a chair next to Yoonoh, glad the more rowdy area of the library would mute out Doyoung confiding in his best friend about his dilemma.
“If it’s not about your huge fat crush on Yuta, which has been there since forever but you just recently noticed it, I’m out of service.” Yoonoh replied while tapping away on his 3DS, mirroring Hansol who was doing the same on the opposite side of the table. It was definitely Pokémon, judging by the sounds coming from the devices.
“I hope you never find a shiny legendary.” The distressed male quipped while Yoonoh just shrugged, immersed in his game. Sometimes, Doyoung wondered if the boy just lied to them all and was actually a thirteen year old, considering he was wearing a striped sweater with a t-shirt on top, the way one would dress in 6th grade. He was often as childish as one, too. Especially now, when he was pouting and doing this weird high pitched whining at a failed combo or whatever. “It actually is about my… infatuation.”
“Bless up, fina-fucking-lly.”
“Stop with the internet lingo and give me some advice!” Yoonoh had the decency to chuckle and say lmao, that prick.
“Okay so; I’m guessing you don’t want to pine and actually want do something about it like Taeyong finally has done-“
“Taeyong did what!?” Hansol looked up at Doyoung at his outburst, and since Hansol was Youngho’s best friend, he was ready to deliver the gossip.
“We’re just speculating, but we heard some shouting from their dorm room last night and then suddenly it was quiet. That’s unusual for their arguments, so me and Yoonoh went to investigate, found a sock on the door.” Doyoung reeled backwards while Yoonoh dabbed with a dimpled smirk, Hansol shuddering slightly. “Later Youngho texted me an emoji combo consisting of the eggplant, the ugly tongue and some water drops. We haven’t heard anything from either of them since.”
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind considering it’s Taeyong, but whatever floats their boat.” Doyoung nudged his best friend, who realized he had been in the middle of giving advice before spilling tea about Youngho and Taeyong, so he looked away from his screen.
“So what I was saying, you have to find out Yuta’s type, and then your type, so you see who has the advantage. Then you have to find the moves that will help you.” Doyoung was lost, but he let Yoonoh ramble on, who obviously had prepared this beforehand. “I would recommend first going for something super effective, like if he’s a fire type maybe surf or something, and then you have to go with TM43, if you’re lucky and use TM10 and get sweet kiss that would be fantastic, and then just go ahead and finish with TM75 if both parts consent to it.”
“Translate.” Doyoung pointed at Hansol, who was trying to hide his grin.
“Just make him get down his defenses, you should take down yours too, and then use attract.” Hansol couldn’t contain the giggle that fell from his lips, Yoonoh not even paying attention anymore. “Then if your hidden power unleashes sweet kiss, you can move onto… swords dance, if you both want to.”
“Jung Yoonoh!” Doyoung shot up from his seat, smacking Yoonoh’s shoulder, who let out a yelp. “That’s not helpful at all, I don’t know how to do those things!”
“I tried.” Yoonoh smiled, all bright and cheery, and Doyoung wanted to fling him into the sun.
“You can try those on your boyfriend, I bet it’ll work.” Doyoung chided while eyeing the two at the table.
“Who?” The younger asked, confused, before his gaze flicked to Hansol. “Are we boyfriends?”
“I don’t know.”
“Doyoung thinks so.”
“Oh, should we go on a date then?”
“Sure, coffee this Saturday?”
“Yeah.” The both of them had matching looks of shy glee on their faces, and Doyoung stomped off in bitterness because he had been the one who needed help with love, not those two who were practically married already.
He also wasn’t surprised when he got a snapchat that weekend from Yoonoh of his 3DS screen, where his and Hansol’s Animal Crossing characters were sitting next to each other in a café instead of the two of them being in an actual café. They even had couple shirts. Yikes.
-
Doyoung’s Tuesday evening did not go according to plan.
He was going to finish his diary entry for that shit class he took with Yuta, which was a diary entry about his recent discovery when it came to said male, and he felt like writing it on paper just didn’t suffice for the ‘getting it off your chest’ Thingy McGee.
Doyoung found himself standing outside of not Nakamoto Yuta’s room, and he certainly did not plan on knocking on the door and ask if they could maybe kinda talk or something, and it was definitely not Yuta who caught him in action with grocery bags in hand as he walked up to Doyoung.
“Want some chips?” Was the sentence that made him choke on his own spit, and Yuta questioning if the Heimlich maneuver was just for food stuck in the esophagus or if it worked on spit, too. The chips line had been an invite to enter the room, but Doyoung still asked if he could when he managed to breathe again.
“My roommate is out for tonight, he was invited to some frat party.” Yuta informed as they walked in, Doyoung carefully following the other. He watched while Yuta jammed his mini fridge full of canned coffee and red bull, the basket where he kept his snacks now filled to the brim as well.
When the task was finished, they both were painfully aware of the tension in the room, and Doyoung was scared he was being seen through. Yuta didn’t seem fazed, and went to his roommate’s desk and stole a speaker before sitting on his own bed. Doyoung followed.
“I was just going to listen to some music and eat Pringles, so…” He seemed out of it, no snarky comment on Doyoung basically standing outside his door like some creep. There was no jab to his embarrassing choking episode either.
“That’s fine.” Yuta hummed at that and connected his phone to the speaker, making himself comfortable. Doyoung reached over to the snack basket, his hand coming in contact with his favorite type of chips, and he felt his heart tear a little, or maybe burst, or beat harder.
He wasn’t sure.
“Just don’t play One Ok Rock.” Doyoung smirked, and he saw Yuta was about to protest so he stuffed a chip into his mouth.
“Fine, I won’t. Geez.” The Japanese mumbled through the potato and spices while finding his playlist, Doyoung waiting patiently for the music to start even if he came to talk.
“This is my favorite song, I mean…” Yuta’s cheeks never flushed, unless it was out of anger or from laughing too hard, and Doyoung had to take two long breaths to calm his pulse. He didn’t meet Yuta’s gaze, it was too risky. Doyoung would most likely go into cardiac arrest, and he didn’t want Yuta to have the satisfaction of knowing that he was the cause. “It was a Naruto ending of all things, but the lyrics are really great.”
“Sure, play it.” Doyoung hummed, and the way the corner of Yuta’s lips pulled upwards into a smile was like a punch to his solar plexus.
He had to admit, the song was really good, blasting out of the crappy dollar store Bluetooth speakers. Doyoung didn’t understand much, it was all in Japanese, except for a few phrases Yuta would translate quietly, obviously the lyrics he liked the most.
It seemed too intimate suddenly, as if they had been walking at a steady pace and were now jumping three steps at a time. They had never talked about each other’s likes or dislikes (Yuta knew Doyoung really liked BBQ chips since he always brought it along to their countless movie nights), or favorite color (even though Doyoung knew Yuta’s was red), or family or anything. Yet, here Yuta was, showing Doyoung a song that meant something to the other, and he felt special, and maybe a little hopeful.
It was an accident, really, when their eyes met. Doyoung didn’t mean for it to happen, he had been so good at avoiding those irises, he had been doing so damn good. But here he was, a lovesick fool. A dumb lovesick fool who just went in for it at the same time the song reached its climax, so fucking cliché and movie-like.
Cliché, but soft lips, and God just more cliché, because he was being kissed back and he felt like he was in outer space, or cloud nine or wherever the fuck one goes when they feel just pure bliss. The rational part of his brain told him to pull away since they still needed to talk, but the other part told him that he couldn’t let Yuta win by pulling away first. Cliché.
Doyoung had been right; since he was slightly taller, he could tuck Yuta’s head under his chin while they cuddled. It felt nice, and he loved it, but he loved it the most when Yuta pulled him down for more kissing.
Yuta would meet him with a slightly open mouth, and his lips were plump and soft. Doyoung couldn’t help himself but let his teeth catch onto the other’s lower lip, dragging it those few times they broke apart to catch a breath. Yuta giggled a few times, but sometimes he would shiver in Doyoung’s arms and let out a quiet moan. Doyoung was more provoked than he had ever been during their petty fights, and kept on tugging on the other’s lip every now and then.
“I can’t do that to you.” Yuta snickered, pecking the corner of Doyoung’s mouth. “Your lips are too thin, sweetheart.”
“Oh, fuck off.” Yuta was rather easy to kick off the bed, Doyoung observed, and laughed at the pathetic noise that left the other as he fell.
Doyoung loved it.
Doyoung loved Nakamoto Yuta.
-
Yutasshole ♡: babe
Yutasshole ♡: baby
Yutasshole ♡: my dodong
Yutasshole ♡: answer meeee
Dodo Boo: what do you want
Yutasshole ♡: I’m horny
Dodo Boo: I’m in CLASS.
Yutasshole ♡: so?
Yutasshole ♡: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Dodo Boo: it’s an Important ™ Class
Yutasshole ♡: *image attachment*
Dodo Boo: I fucking hate you so fucking much you ar
Dodo Boo: fucking dea d to
Dodo Boo: m e
Yutasshole ♡: *image attachment*
Dodo Boo: on m y fuckcng way